Читать книгу The Success System That Never Fails (with linked TOC) - William Clement Stone - Страница 6

The Search Begins

Decisions without actions are worthless

Failure can be good for you

Don’t let mental walls block you in

Direct your thoughts, control your emotions, ordain your destiny

A Young Boy Begins the Search

I was six years old and scared. Selling newspapers on Chicago’s tough South Side wasn’t easy, especially with the older kids taking over the busy corners, yelling louder, and threatening me with clenched fists. The memory of those dim days is still with me, for it’s the first time I can recall turning a disadvantage into an advantage. It’s a simple story, unimportant now...and yet it was a beginning.

Hoelle’s Restaurant was near the corner where I tried to work, and it gave me an idea. It was a busy and prosperous place that presented a frightening aspect to a child of six. I was nervous, but I walked in hurriedly and made a lucky sale at the first table. Then diners at the second and third tables bought papers. When I started for the fourth, however, Mr. Hoelle pushed me out the front door. But I had sold three papers. So when Mr. Hoelle wasn’t looking, I walked back in and called at the fourth table. Apparently,

the jovial customer liked my gumption; he paid for the paper and gave me an extra dime before Mr. Hoelle pushed me out once again. But I had already sold four papers and got a “bonus” dime besides. I walked into the restaurant and started selling again. There was a lot of laughter. The customers were enjoying the show. One whispered loudly, “Let him be,” as Mr. Hoelle came toward me. About five minutes later, I had sold all my papers.

The next evening I went back. Mr. Hoelle again ushered me out the front door. But when I walked right back in, he threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, “What’s the use!” Later, we became great friends, and I never had trouble selling papers there again.

Years later, I used to think of that little boy, almost as if he were not me but some strange friend from long ago. Once, after I had made my fortune and was head of a large insurance empire, I analyzed that boy’s actions in the light of what I had learned. This is what I concluded:

1. He needed the money. The newspapers would be worthless to him if they weren’t sold; he couldn’t even read them. The few pennies he had borrowed to buy them would also be lost. To a six year-old, this catastrophe was enough to motivate him–to make him keep trying. Thus, he had the necessary inspiration to action.

2. After his first success in selling three papers in the restaurant, he went back in, even though he knew he might be embarrassed and thrown out again. After three trips in and out, he had the necessary technique for selling papers in restaurants. Thus, he gained the know-how.

3. He knew what to say, because he had heard the older kids yelling out the headlines. All he had to do, when he approached a prospective customer, was to repeat in a softer voice what he had heard. Thus, he possessed the requisite activity knowledge.

I smiled as I realized that my “little friend” had become successful as a newsboy by using the same techniques that later flowered into a system for success that enabled him, and others, to amass fortunes. But I’m getting ahead of myself. For now, just remember those three phrases: inspiration to action, know-how, and activity knowledge. They are the keys to the system.

The Boy’s Search Goes On

Even though I was raised in a poor, run-down neighborhood, I was happy. Aren’t all children happy, regardless of poverty, if they have a place to sleep, something to eat, and room to play?

I lived with my mother in the home of relatives. As I grew older, the grandfather of a girl who lived on the top floor of our apartment building sparked my imagination with stories

of cowboys and Indians while we ate puffed rice and milk. And each day, when he tired of his story-telling, I would go downstairs in the backyard and live the part of Buffalo Bill or a great Indian warrior chief. My pony, made out of a stick or old broom, was the fastest in the West.

Picture a working mother seeing her young son in bed at night and asking him to tell about his day’s experiences–those that were good and those that were bad. Picture him, after they had talked for a while, getting out of bed and kneeling beside his mother while she prayed for guidance. Then you have the feeling of the beginning of my search for the true riches of life. Mother had a lot to pray for. Like all good mothers, she felt that her son was a good boy, but she was concerned because he was keeping “bad company.” And she was particularly disturbed that he had developed the habit of smoking cigarettes.

Tobacco was costly, so I used to roll coffee grounds in cigarette paper when tobacco was not available. Perhaps it made me feel important, for another boy and I smoked only when other boys and girls were around, taking particular pleasure if they seemed shocked. When we had company at home, I would demonstrate how grown up I was by smoking a homemade cigarette. A pattern was being established. But it wasn’t good.

Like other kids who get started in the wrong direction, I played hookey. I didn’t have any fun doing it; I felt guilty. Perhaps that was the way I tried to show that I was different from the others in my group. But there was one good thing I did do: At night, when my mother and I would talk. I would tell her the truth–and I would tell her everything.

My mother’s prayers for guidance were answered. She enrolled me in Spaulding Institute, a parochial boarding school at Nauvoo, Illinois. There, through exposure to a wholesome environment in which the three ingredients of the success system that never fails were employed, something happened–something good.

Where can one develop inspiration to action to search for self-improvement better than in a religions school? And who has greater know-how and necessary knowledge to teach character than those who are devoting their entire lives to the church, striving to purify their own souls while trying to save the souls of others’? As the weeks passed into months and months into years, I developed a secret ambition to be like my religious father –the pastor whom I admired and loved.

But I also loved my mother, and I missed her very much. Like so many boys living away from home at private schools, I was homesick, and like them, every time I saw my mother or wrote to her, I would beg her to bring me home permanently.

After two years at Nauvoo, she felt I was ready. Equally important, she was ready. Or perhaps it was motherly love, for she too, longed to have me with her. Although there was some question of my ability to adjust to a new environment, she knew that she could always send me back to Nauvoo if it became desirable. I was ready, and she was too.

The Upward Climb

Early in life, Mother had learned to sew, and because she had initiative, talent and sensitivity, she became proficient at it. Shortly after I left for Nauvoo, she realized that a change of home and business environment was desirable for her, too. She was now in a position to do something about it, for she didn’t have to be concerned with arranging for someone to care for me while she was at work.

She obtained a position in a very exclusive ladies’ import establishment known as Dillon’s. Within two years, she was in complete charge of all designing, fitting, and sewing, and she had developed a reputation among the exclusive clientele of being an outstanding designer and dressmaker. Her earnings were sufficiently great to enable her to get her own apartment in a nicer neighborhood.

Within a block of our apartment was a rooming house where the landlady did her own home cooking, and I had my meals there. The food was wonderful–beef stew, baked beans, homemade pies, mashed potatoes and gravy–notwithstanding the jovial complaints of the adult boarders, who were the most interesting people in the world to an eleven-year-old boy: show people. They liked me, too. I was the only child there.

Like thousands of men and women who grasp the opportunity to make the upward climb in this land of unlimited opportunity, mother saved enough money to establish her own business. Her reputation as a designer and dressmaker brought good clients, but she lacked the know-how to utilize bank credit. (Many small businesses would become big businesses if the owners would only learn that banks are in business to help small businesses become large through sound financing.)

Because of lack of working capital or the proper utilization of bank credit, mother’s dressmaking establishment never expanded beyond her personal work and that of two full-time employees. Like most persons who endeavor to establish their own business, she, too, had her financial problems. But these problems brought to us many of the true riches of life, such as the joy of giving.

I made my spending money (which was partly savings money, for I had established a savings account) by building a Saturday Evening Post and newspaper route. Although each night mother asked me to tell her about my troubles, she never bothered to tell me about her own. But I could sense them. One morning, I noticed that she seemed to be quite worried. Later that day, before she returned home, I drew out what was to me a big chunk of my savings and purchased a dozen of the best roses I could buy.

My mother’s joy at this token of love inspired me to realize the true joy of the giver. Often over the years she would tell her friends with a mother’s pride about the dozen beautiful, long-stemmed roses and what they had done for her. This experience made me realize that money was a good thing to have–for the good it could do.

January 6 was always an important date in my mother’s life and in mine, for that was her birthday. One January 6, when for some reason–perhaps because of Christmas shopping–my bank account was down to less than a dollar, I was very much concerned, for I wanted desperately to buy her a birthday gift. That morning I prayed for guidance.

At the lunch hour, while walking home from school, my ears were tuned to the cracking of the ice beneath my feet. Suddenly I stopped and turned around. Something told me to go back and take a look. I walked back, picked up a crumpled green paper, and was amazed to find a ten-dollar bill! (That something you will hear more about.)

I was excited, but I decided not to buy a gift after all. I had a better plan.

Mother was home for lunch. As she was clearing the table, she picked up her plate and found a handwritten birthday note and the ten-dollar bill. Once again I found the joy of the giver, for it seemed that this was a day when everyone else had forgotten her birthday She was delighted with this gift, which at the time seemed to her quite a sum.

Decisions Are Important when Followed Through with Action

These personal experiences will indicate that each new decision that a child or an adult makes in a given set of circumstances begins patterns of thought that later create a tremendous impact in his life. When an adult makes a decision, it is likely to be foolish or sound, depending on his past experiences in coming to decisions. For the little things that are good ripen into big things that are good. And the little things that are bad ripen into big things that are bad. And this applies to decisions.

But good decisions must be followed through with action. Without action, a good decision becomes meaningless, for the desire itself can die through lack of an attempt to achieve its fulfillment. That’s why you should act immediately on a good decision.

When You Go for Something, don’t Come Back Until You Get It

I was twelve years of age when an older neighbor boy whom I respected invited me to attend a Boy Scout meeting. I went and had a lot of fun, so I joined his troop– Troop 23, under a scoutmaster named Stuart P. Walsh, who was attending the University of Chicago.

I’ll never forget him. He was a man of character. He wanted every boy in his troop to become a first-class scout within a short space of time, and he inspired each boy to want his troop to be the best in the city of Chicago. Perhaps that’s one reason why it was.

Another was his firm conviction: to get what you expect–inspect, when you teach, inspire, train, and supervise others.

Every scout in Troop 23 made a weekly report of the good turns he had done each day in the week–the ways he had helped someone else without receiving compensation of any kind. This made each boy look for the opportunity to do a good deed–and because he looked, he found the opportunity.

Stuart P. Walsh imprinted in the memory of each member of Troop 23, in indelible pattern, the principles of the Scout Law: “A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.”

But more important, he inspected to see if each scout in his troop knew how to relate, assimilate, and use each of these principles–not just to memorize them like a parrot, but to use them like a man. I can hear him say now: “When you go after something –don’t come back until you get it!”

In the next chapter, you will see how this principle taught by my old scoutmaster became so ingrained in me that it formed, at first without my realizing it, another step on the road to the success system that never fails. The six-year-old newsboy about whom you read in the beginning of this chapter had not yet awakened to where he was going–but he was on his way.

Little Hinges That Swing Big Doors

All success swings on the three phrases listed below. Once you truly understand what they mean, you’re on your way to a golden future. The remaining chapters in this book give you an understanding of the three phrases–but you must open your mind and look for meanings.

1. Inspiration to Action

2. Know-how

3. Activity knowledge